Changed. The fire turned wilder into something more taunting. That night she lured a rival lover into their hideout-a man who had once showered her letters transforming scenting with honeyed lies. "Mera deewana," her eyes mixed with love and defiance declared to her lover because the sensation made him partially aroused when he heard the shrill and feral laugh as she stabbed him with a shard of mirror, spraying blood across her face like war paint and making her saree a canvas of red and gold. He watched, pride and pain warring in his chest and the air heavy with salt and iron.
"Your echo, my storm," he said as he stepped closer and crunched the broken glass under his heavy boots. "But are you really mine?" The question loomed heavy between them like a blade. She smiled, too sharp, too knowing, and that night she drugged his chai, masking the bitterness with her kiss as they sat before the flickering lantern. He woke tied to a chair, the ropes digging into his wrists, as her silhouette loomed with a knife, catching the dim light above it. "I require no savior," she said, pressing the blade to his throat, her voice steady but her eyes wild. "I need to know you're mine, not just my shadow." Heart thrundering, betrayal or test? With a surge of rage and love he broke the shackles, the fibers tearing as he pinned her to the wall, kissing her feverishly, mingling blood and sweat. "Meri casstte, you're my madness- I'd die for you, but I live to bleed for you."
She dashed the knife away and the tears burst forth from her eyes as both her hands clasped to his face. "They doubted us- whistled you would cage me too. I required your heart bare." He cupped her face, blood from his wrists staining her cheeks warm and slick. "You have it, always, meri casstte-every beat, every drop, it's yours."
But their embrace was interrupted by the sound of gunfire echoing outside, sharp and close. Footfalls pounded across the docks: her knife had not silenced all their enemies. "They are coming," she said breathlessly in a shivering whisper, her breath warm against his neck. He grinned dominantly and sweetly as his hand found the machete. "Let them. I will paint the night red for you."